James Doran-Webb is on a quest amidst a pile of distorted wood, searching for the perfect piece – it could either become the powerful shoulder of a galloping steed or transform into slightly flared nostrils. The 58-year-old sculptor from Devon, England is meticulously selecting wood with perfect grain curves to adorn a life-size sculpture horse entirely crafted from recycled driftwood. The seamless assembly of each part must fit flawlessly, without any deviations or extra gaps.
“This might work,” says Doran-Webb, lifting a strangely shaped piece of wood for his assistant to inspect. Meanwhile, in his spacious and versatile workshop in Cebu, Philippines, his seven craftsmen and six welders are busily engaged in various driftwood projects.
For over twenty years, Doran-Webb has been devoted to carving weathered wood into lifelike wildlife artworks, developing a unique “wood welding” technique through repeated experimentation. Each piece is fixed onto a precise steel frame that connects every piece of wood. He exclusively selects the local Tugas wood (scientific name: Vitex parviflora) – a dense, highly acclaimed wood prized for its exceptional rot resistance.
It is in this workshop that the artist’s lifelike wooden beasts come to life one by one. Upon entering, one is greeted by a mountain of exquisitely textured giant wood pieces, extending from left to right with a winding path in between. Above, a 30-foot high gantry crane with a chain hoist hangs from the ceiling. The work area is filled with various sizes of band saws, chain saws, and welders, each tool customized to suit the rough shaping needs of working with reclaimed hardwood.
“Every time I walk into the workshop, it truly feels like heaven to me,” Doran-Webb tells The Epoch Times.
While his team is engrossed in creating individual sculptures, Doran-Webb journeys between projects, guiding team members while focusing on his more pioneering core works. One year, he created a 7,000-pound (approximately 3.2-ton) Asian dragon as the iconic piece for the Gardens by the Bay’s Chinese New Year celebrations in Singapore. This year, he has focused on crafting a series of wildlife sculptures for the famous Chelsea Flower Show in London.
At the age of 22, Doran-Webb moved to the Philippines and has since integrated into the local community, fluent in Visayan language. He regards his team as family rather than employees. “Each of my assistants is a skilled craftsman,” he says. “They work alongside me, honing their skills together. I primarily focus on imparting knowledge and experience to them, and they are all experts in their respective fields.”
Yet, the soul behind this driftwood art studio has never undergone formal art education. Born into an antique dealer family, Doran-Webb started his craftsmanship journey as a young boy assisting his father in selling vintage English chairs. He learned the trade from his father, evolving into a craftsman. In his early twenties, he arrived in the Philippines, apprenticing under a master of rattan furniture, commencing his formal apprenticeship.
“I hold artisans in high regard, so if you ask me how I define myself, I would say I am first and foremost a craftsman,” he says. “But I also consider myself an artist because ultimately, I am creating art.”
It was Doran-Webb’s keen eye for the age marks left on antique wood by nature that led him to discover the highest quality rustic material: driftwood. In the early 2000s, while strolling on the storm-eroded beaches of the East Pacific, he stumbled upon a diverse range of uniquely shaped, exquisite-textured driftwood.
“It looked like a horse’s head or a part of some animal’s body,” he reminisces.
Soon, his first driftwood horse was born, yet it did not last long.
Doran-Webb quickly realized that driftwood is highly prone to decay.
As a result, his artistic creation had to shift focus. He abandoned driftwood and turned to a more durable material: the long-dead Tugas wood – a favorite among Cebu locals historically used in house construction. Tugas wood’s superior resistance to rotting outmatches driftwood, and its collection is legal. Doran-Webb collaborates with village elders and the Department of Natural Resources to arrange trucks to transport these heavy woods from the hills to his workshop, transforming the community’s raw materials into international art pieces.
“But I dislike calling myself a ‘long-dead wood carving artist’ because that label doesn’t sit well with me,” he says. “I still refer to myself as a ‘driftwood’ sculptor.”
After enduring decades of erosion from tropical storms and mountainous sun exposure, the wood on the hillsides has weathered into faded, bone-like textures akin to seawater-washed deadwood. To the untrained eye, the difference between these two types of wood is almost imperceptible.
This characteristic of being resilient in the face of erosion, much like weathered wood, vividly reflects the trajectory of his own professional career. Growing up, his family life oscillated between what he termed as “glorious poverty” and moments of “extraordinary wealth” – extreme fluctuations that accompanied his artistic journey. Before finding his niche, he faced bankruptcy crises multiple times.
In 2012, he had a breakthrough. Doran-Webb recalls that during an early exhibition at the British Animal Art Fair, he and his family stayed at the “cheapest hotel.” Throughout the entire event, none of his pieces sold, his credit cards were maxed out, and his wife asked him for lunch money. Doran-Webb reached into his pockets.
“To be honest, I only had eight pounds on me at that time,” he says. Despite his dwindling savings, the artist prepared for a larger adventure, and it was there that he finally gained fame.
“I had to move the unsold pieces to the Chelsea Flower Show opening the next day,” he says.
On the opening day, within the first hour, a buyer lingered in front of a massive centerpiece. Priced at roughly $90,000, the artwork sold right then and there.
“At that moment, my career was set in stone, and I could finally breathe a sigh of relief,” he says. “For the next four days, I was ecstatic.”
Since that windfall, Doran-Webb has transformed from a struggling artisan to an internationally acclaimed sculpture master. For over a decade, his driftwood artworks have been displayed in major public gardens in Singapore. Last February, he held his first solo exhibition in Scottsdale, Arizona. Today, he is a regular at the Chelsea Flower Show, with his pieces even featured at events attended by royal family members, propelling the boy who once made a living selling vintage English chairs into the social circles of the British royal family.
“It was a grand visual feast,” he says and points out that the Chelsea Flower Show is undoubtedly one of the most renowned horticultural exhibitions globally, with his booth being one of the most impressive. Last year, he received the Best Booth Award.
In 2026, Doran-Webb’s performance has been even more outstanding, earning him the highest honor – a five-star rating, with judges describing his works with a single word: “epic.”
However, amidst strolling among London’s royals and neatly trimmed lawns, the sharp contrast between his life established on this land and elsewhere around the globe becomes more pronounced for him. After three decades of artistic creation in Cebu, the 58-year-old sculptor admits to feeling a touch of homesickness.
“As people grow older, they become more aware of cultural differences, but I still love it here very much,” he says, comparing his rigorous English upbringing with the relaxed Philippine community.
“I used to wander in the mountains of northern Cebu searching for antiques with a dear friend,” he says, recounting times they would reside in bamboo huts for weeks, entirely relying on the goodwill of strangers.
Now, as shipping containers laden with artworks head to London’s famous gardens, this skilled master craftsman continues his search. Perhaps he will find a perfectly twisted piece of wood to carve a new steed, or maybe, in the process of searching, he will find his way home.